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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24647914">Searching for treasure and I find you (again)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydia/pseuds/rydia'>rydia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, The Great Fodlan Bakeoff, i guess??, low magic treasure hunter au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:54:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24647914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydia/pseuds/rydia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been some time since a mysterious woman got her hands on the Sword of the Creator right before Claude could.</p><p>Now, he searches for Failnought in the catacombs under Derdriu and this time he's determined the same thing won't happen again.</p><p>Written for the Great Fódlan Bakeoff.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Searching for treasure and I find you (again)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Great Fódlan Bakeoff with the following themes: exploration, secret, ambition, and devotion. I thought all those themes worked well for Claudeleth, although somehow I ended up writing a not very fleshed out AU in one sitting so just roll with it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The catacombs underneath Derdriu are eerie and unsettling. And damp. Dark and slippery. They smell bad, too. Overall, a dangerous place.</p><p>But Claude is enjoying his explorations. After all, he’s surrounded by the dead and the dead can’t hurt him.</p><p>It’s the living who are dangerous.</p><p>Still, he could do without the rats, but at least the light from his torch sends them skittering away back into the darkness. The magical fire also keeps away some of the damp coldness that he can feel edging into him. He’d have to thank Lysithea for helping him with the eternal flame on this torch after he gets out of here. Perhaps pick up some treats for her from the best bakery in Derdriu.</p><p>Claude has never been good at magic. A shame, really, because it’s so useful. But his strengths lie elsewhere.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It had taken a long time for him to find a safe entrance to the catacombs, and even then he’d been cautious about rushing in. Whoever else had used this entrance in the past hadn’t been so careful – while there’s some graffiti and evidence of small fires, there’s none beyond a small pile of bones about a half a mile in.</p><p>The pile is topped with a skull. Claude’s heard all the rumours about people – or monsters of some kind – living in the catacombs, but he knows that’s impossible. These bones are a warning to stay away, yes – but not one left from some secret underground people.</p><p>It had also taken a long time to find a map, and the one he had only showed a small portion of the sprawling underground tunnels, and it definitely didn’t have the location of what he’s searching for.</p><p>In truth, Claude’s not even sure if the treasure he seeks is here. Logically, it could be anywhere. The legendary bow Failnought hasn’t been seen for well over a thousand years – an item well documented in the history books but long since thought to be lost or destroyed. His research had involved much guesswork and even now, all he can say is that he has a <em>feeling</em>. Claude trusts no one more than himself. So he'd made his plans.</p><p>This sojourn is one he’d kept to himself. After the debacle with the Sword of the Creator, well… Claude’s not sure he could have convinced Hilda to come down here with him even if he’d begged.</p><p>The dusty tombs of Garreg Mach had been enough for her.</p><p>But that loss had spurred Claude on, and this time it’s for something more personal. Failnought might not be able to cut a mountain in half, but it had been owned by one of his ancestors on his mother’s side, after all. If anyone should find it, it should be him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Claude is careful as he explores, not wanting to suddenly find himself submerged in disgusting water or having the ceiling collapse around him. He also wants to ensure he doesn’t get lost, and he marks each tunnel he follows carefully, using a colour coded system he’s shared with Hilda in the past so if he doesn’t return soon and she gets his note, she’ll be able to follow. Find his body, perhaps.</p><p>But Claude is confident, and he’s been mentally mapping the catacombs as he goes. It helps that there’s still some old art and artefacts that water and age haven’t completely destroyed. He’ll definitely have to come back another time, get some of the Alliance archaeologists in here. But for now, he remains focused on his goal, despite his burning curiosity about the art depicting a dragon. He peeks in on a number of singular tombs, names etched into the stone, long since lost to history. It takes everything in him to resist the urge to look closer at the detailed sarcophaguses, wondering at the language, so hard to make out. He’s studied enough ancient Fódlan texts to have a grasp on the rules of the language, but he can’t stop to see how far that would get him here. He has to stay focused.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The first sign that something is amiss are the crossbow bolts embedded into the stone wall.</p><p>Claude inspects them as close as he dares, and then slides his eyes across to the other side of the tunnel that’s slightly wider than any he’s been in before. It’s hard to make out, but because he knows where to look, he can see the small holes where the bolts must have come from. Kneeling down, he slowly waves the torch across the ground.</p><p>Pressure plates, he thinks.</p><p>As he stands straight again, he realises that the three bolts would hit an average man in the head, neck, and stomach.</p><p>None of his research has ever mentioned traps, but Claude had always known it was a possibility. After all, Garreg Mach’s tombs had also had traps. He'd seen that woman make quick work of them...</p><p>Dismissing the memory, Claude considers. He has no way to tell if this trap has been recently activated or if these bolts had been fired a thousand years ago. But it does spark excitement in him.</p><p>Because this tells him he’s on the right path.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Claude proceeds even more carefully now that he knows each step may be his last. But every trap he comes across has already been sprung, and the initial excitement he’d felt upon knowing he was on the right path to Failnought eases into worry.</p><p>Someone has already come along this path. Has that someone already been here, perhaps hundreds of years ago, and taken Failnought with them? Is he going to have to start his search all over again?</p><p>All he knows is that he can’t go back now.</p><p>Well, he <em>can</em>, technically.</p><p>But he won’t.</p><p>So instead, he keeps moving forward, marking each turning point, half expecting to stumble upon the skeleton of whoever made it through all these traps.</p><p>But he finds no remains.</p><p>Instead, after rounding a corner and seeing yet another set of bolts in the wall, he notices a ripped piece of dark fabric hanging from one of the bolts.</p><p>Claude fingers it carefully. It’s dry. Modern fabric. No mould. Leaning closer, he can smell a fresh, crisp scent from it, making him think of the wind blowing through the orange groves back in Almyra. At night, specifically, when he looked up at the stars and made his plans for the future.</p><p>His eyes cast down the gloomy tunnel, every sense suddenly on high alert as he realises that there’s a chance he’s not alone.</p><p>Irritation flashes through him. He’d been pipped to the post back at Garreg Mach, when that woman had pulled it out and it had glowed in her hands.</p><p>He’s not going to let that happen again.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The tunnels are widening, and the coffins become ever more elaborate along the way. There are even torches burning here, and Claude’s not sure if that’s due to powerful magic or if a mysterious someone else has just recently lit them. Either way, he can extinguish his own torch which frees up his hands. By his side he has an axe, and on his back is a bow. No Failnought, to be sure, but it serves him well.</p><p>Something – perhaps from a lifetime of watching his back – has Claude silently easing the bow from his back and carefully setting up an arrow down his sights as he slowly edges around the corner.</p><p>He holds his breath, and all he can hear is the thundering of his heart as he sees the hooded figure up ahead. Even at this distance, he <em>knows</em> who it is. Knows it even before she turns and grabs the sword by her side and it glows in her hands.</p><p>Her hooded cloak has a jagged rip down one side, frayed fabric swaying as she moves.</p><p>The hood slips as she faces him, the unruly dark blue hair that’s haunted Claude ever since Garreg Mach spilling out over her shoulders.</p><p>In her hands she holds the Sword of the Creator steady. “You,” she says, face and voice blank like it’s not unusual to keep running into the same person in ancient, underground tombs.</p><p>“Me,” Claude replies just as evenly, slowly moving forward, never once lowering his bow. “I’m not letting you beat me this time.”</p><p>Her gaze briefly flickers down to the sword in her hand before she meets his eyes again. “Prepare to be disappointed.” She pauses, head tilting to the side as she considers him. “Again.” She sounds almost amused.</p><p>She’s not moving, which is good, but Claude knows that while she’s very beautiful, this woman is also like a snake in the grass, ready to strike, and he can’t let his guard down. He keeps his aim steady on her as he takes stock, surprised that she’s not charging ahead like she did at Garreg Mach. He needs to keep her talking as he tries to come up with a plan.</p><p>So he smiles at her. “It is interesting, though, that we keep meeting like this, isn’t it?” There’s something behind her, some kind of fog…</p><p>“I know who you are now,” she says, still and steady. “Claude von Riegan. You should leave.”</p><p>His eyebrows raise and his heart speeds up at the sound of his name on her lips. “If you know who I am, then you know that, technically, I own all this.”</p><p>“You own the land, I suppose,” she replies easily. “Does that mean you own everything above and below it, too?”</p><p>His smile widens into something dangerous. If only. That would make his ambitions much easier.</p><p>But his expression makes her tense and when he puts another foot forward, she also turns dangerous. “Stop moving.”</p><p>Claude does, but only because he knows that sword can extend far further than it looks. He doesn’t think she’d kill him, but she might certainly <em>maim</em> him, and that’s the last thing he wants, especially so deep into the catacombs.</p><p>“How’d you find out about it?” He doesn't need to clarify that he's talking about Failnought.</p><p>She doesn’t answer, but a tiny crease appears in between her eyebrows.</p><p>“I mean,” Claude goes on casually like he doesn’t have an arrow pointed between her eyes, “I’m sure we’re both here for the same reason, and I know I’m repeating myself, but really it’s just so <em>interesting</em> that you’re here. Again.” His voice hardens and he slides another foot forward. “At the same time I am.”</p><p>“Stop moving,” she hisses, her grip on the sword tightening. But she doesn’t strike him. And now Claude can see the fog behind her shifting in an unnatural way.</p><p><em>Magic</em>.</p><p>The clouds move and behind it… there looks to be a stone entrance, more elaborate than anything he’s seen so far.</p><p>His blood sings.</p><p>He <em>knows</em> it’s there.</p><p>This mysterious woman, as intrigued as her as he may be, isn’t going to stop him this time. He needs her out of the way so he can deal with this strange mist.</p><p>“So. What happens now?” He raises an eyebrow at her and she frowns.</p><p>“You leave,” she replies, terse. “Go and get out of here. Safely.”</p><p>Claude scoffs. “Good joke.”</p><p>“I don’t joke.” She says it so deadpan that Claude can’t help but laugh.</p><p>Frowning, she continues. “This mist behind me is poisoned. There’s no safe way through it.”</p><p>He’d guessed as much. It doesn’t look like it would take too long to run through the tunnel, so clearly it’s something that acts through the skin – and likely acts fast.</p><p>And while little miss treasure hunter in front of him may hold the Sword of the Creator and be fast and strong enough to get through all the traps so far, Claude knows he beats her at this. She knows his name, but she has no way of knowing how good he is with poisons.</p><p>And antidotes.</p><p>Quickly, Claude runs through what kind of poison this cloud may be, taking into consideration that this has been here a long time and is magic made. It narrows it down.</p><p>“A shame,” he murmurs, still thinking quickly. “In that case, shall we put our weapons down and just talk? I think we can establish that neither one of us wants to hurt each other.”</p><p>She seems to ease slightly at that, but is still clearly on edge. It will take more than a few charming words to have her lower her guard.</p><p>But still, though her eyes bore into him for a long moment, she finally relaxes her stance and sheaths her sword. After a second, Claude lowers his bow, securing it behind him again and sliding the arrow back into his quiver.</p><p>“Isn’t this far more friendly? Will you tell me your name?”</p><p>Although she still looks uncertain, the woman does answer. “Byleth.”</p><p>“Byleth.” Claude tries the name on his tongue. “It’s a pleasure to meet you properly.” His eyes drift to her side. “It would have been nicer if you didn’t steal from me.”</p><p>Her eyebrows raise slightly and Claude thinks she looks insulted. It’s hard to tell – all her facial expressions seem to be quite subtle. “I didn’t steal it,” she replies and he knows he was right. She sounds affronted. “You couldn’t use this, anyway.”</p><p>He scoffs. “I know how to use a sword.”</p><p>Something in her expression stills him. “That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>A curious answer.</p><p>He presses closer and she tenses again. He wonders if she thinks he’s going to push her into the poison cloud. It had crossed his mind, and if she’d attacked him maybe he would have been forced to do that. But she hadn’t and he’s relieved about that because does Claude not like unnecessary death.</p><p>What he does like is this woman. <em>Byleth</em>. She might have taken the sword that can cut through mountains out from under him, and while that had been infuriating, it only makes him want her more. In various ways, both productive to his goals and not. It’s a shame that probably won’t happen, because he’s sure she won’t be happy by what he’s about to do.</p><p>“Byleth,” he says sweetly. “What do you mean by that?”</p><p>Her eyes narrow. “I don’t trust you, so keep your distance.”</p><p>Words he's heard before. “I’m used to that, no one does.”</p><p>She frowns, a sad expression crossing her face that Claude will analyse later. But for now he takes advantage of her moment of weakness at his one genuine statement and rushes forward.</p><p>She’s quick, but he’d expected that. It’s also clear that she expected him to push her back, not pull her forward, and she loses her balance as Claude throws her behind him, stumbling to the ground.</p><p>By the time she stands, Claude has already dashed into the mist.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ideally, Claude would have taken the time to cover as much skin as he could, but that would have given him away. He can feel the mist, cold against his skin, immediately affecting him, burning painful, <em>awful</em>, and he closes his eyes against it.</p><p>He doesn’t slow down.</p><p>Somewhere behind him he hears Byleth call out his name, a definite hint of panic in her voice.</p><p>A gut wrenching pain lances through his stomach, strong enough to almost send him stumbling to the ground. But Claude catches himself, only momentarily slowing down, and keeps going.</p><p>He almost gives himself a concussion when he slams into a wall, and he wrenches open his stinging eyes to see that he’s reached the other side, at the arched doorway. Doubling over, he begins to vomit, but this isn’t the first time in his life he’s been poisoned, and his hands slide over the bags at his belt seeking out by touch the vial he’s searching for, moving automatically for what he knows will him.</p><p>Finding what he needs, he gulps down a mouthful and slumps against the wall, willing himself to keep it down long enough to work.</p><p>After a painful few minutes, it does, and the pain begins to pass. Claude raises a shaky hand to inspect the damage.</p><p>There’s some very ugly, painful welts marring his skin. He can feel them all over his body.</p><p>But no matter, they won’t kill him and he has some vulneraries on him. The real danger was in the toxin that had made him vomit.</p><p>Glancing back at the poisonous cloud, Claude is a little disappointed. He’d hoped it might disappear after someone had gone through it.</p><p>No matter, he tells himself again. He stands, still a little more unsteady than he’d like, and a sudden clattering of footsteps coming in his direction have him reaching for his axe, alarmed. But it’s someone coming through the mist and with dismay, Claude realises that Byleth must have followed him.</p><p>His suspicion is proven correct when she appears, barreling out of the cloud, an arm thrown over her eyes. Moving quickly, Claude grabs her before she can slam into the wall like he had, but she flails in alarm, sending them both back to the ground.</p><p>“Hey–“ he protests, winded, but doesn’t bother to say anything else because Byleth is retching, her whole body shaking. He can already see the angry welts appearing on her skin.</p><p>Claude knows he only has enough for one more dose of the antidote. If he has to leave this place by the same route, he’d been counting on that half vial to save him again on the other side.</p><p>If he gives it to Byleth and there’s no way out. They could both die down here, trapped behind this cloud.</p><p>But he doesn’t hesitate, waiting for her to pause in her vomiting and then hauling her upright and forcing the remainder of the vial down her throat. Byleth jerks against him, her eyes searching and wild, but he holds her jaw closed as gently as he can while still being firm.</p><p>“You need to swallow it, it’s an antidote.”</p><p>Her eyes meet his, still wild, but she stops struggling. And when her body finally stops shaking, Claude removes his hands from her jaw, wincing at the painful swelling he can see on her face. She must feel as miserable as he does.</p><p>He doesn’t quite let go of her, though, and Byleth doesn’t move or even look away from him. She shivers, and takes a deep breath.</p><p>“Thank you,” she finally says, voice rough.</p><p>He sighs. “That was really stupid.” His own voice sounds just as wrecked.</p><p>Her eyes flash. “The same could be said for you.”</p><p>“Why did you come after me? Do you want Failnought that badly?”</p><p>There’s nothing subtle or minute about the anger on her face now. “You ran into a poison cloud! I was <em>worried</em>.”</p><p>Claude stares at her, dumbfounded. She was <em>worried</em>? She doesn’t even know him.</p><p>But she…</p><p>She’s not lying, he’s sure.</p><p><em>Worried</em>.</p><p>About him.</p><p>He closes his eyes, trying to sort through a number of complicated feelings.</p><p>“How about this?” he starts, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes. “We’re both stupid.”</p><p>To his surprise, Byleth leans forward with a shaky breath, resting her forehead against his chest. Without thinking, he wraps his arms around her, mindful of the painful swellings they both sport.</p><p>“I think you're right,” she whispers.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Claude isn’t too sure how long they sit like that as they recover and catch their breath. It seems to take Byleth longer than he had to get over the effects of the poison, but he supposes most people haven’t been exposed to as much poison as he has.</p><p>He can’t even remember the last time he’d been this close to a person, but he doesn’t feel unsafe or threatened. In fact, he’s rather like to do this when they aren’t both recovering from a near death experience in an ancient tomb.</p><p>He feels Byleth lean back and take one of her hands in his. The brush of bare skin sends a jolt through him, and his head snaps up. Whatever words he might have spoken die on his lips as he feels the pleasant, soothing breeze of faith magic flow across his body.</p><p>
  <em>Just who is this woman?</em>
</p><p>Under her ministrations, the welts begin to shrink and the pain across his body eases.</p><p>Byleth looks at him through her eyelashes. “Better?”</p><p>Claude nods, mouth dry. He swallows heavily. “I have some vulneraries, if you want.”</p><p>A tiny smile cross her lips, and even though her face is covered in welts and she looks exhausted, Claude thinks she’s beautiful.</p><p>As he passes her the vulneraries and watches her quickly drink them, he realises that he’s in real trouble.</p><p>“It’s not as good as your healing magic, but once we get out of here, I know someone who’ll be able to help.”</p><p>Byleth nods as she looks down at her hands, still sore looking, but better than before.</p><p>Claude feels the need to keep talking. “I’m sure she won’t be impressed by what I was doing down here, but Marianne will always help me, or any friend of mine.”</p><p>She blinks, eyebrows raising and Claude is pleased with himself because he knows now that’s her surprised look.</p><p>“We’re friends?” Byleth asks, sounding doubtful.</p><p>Claude grins, a more genuine one than he’s ever shown her before. “If you want.”</p><p>“I… do. I don’t have many friends.”</p><p>They untangle themselves from each other and stand. Byleth has an uncertain look on her face that Claude wants to remove.</p><p>“That changes now, then.” He presses a hand to his chest and bows. “Claude von Riegan, sovereign duke of the Alliance and now, friend to Byleth.”</p><p>That little smile appears again. “A pleasure to meet you, Claude von Riegan.” She returns the bow. “Byleth Eisner.”</p><p>“Wait.” Claude straightens up and squints at her. “You’re the Blade Breaker's daughter.” He’s hired Jeralt Eisner, infamous mercenary, himself in the past. “<em>You’re</em> the Ashen Demon?”</p><p>Byleth’s eyebrows raise. “I don’t like being called that, but yes.”</p><p>“Right,” he replies, stunned. “I didn’t know you were in the business of treasure hunting.”</p><p>Shrugging, Byleth turns away to look at the stone archway. “Mercenaries are in the business of many things.”</p><p>Claude recovers fast, and comes up to stand beside her, peering into the gloom beyond. He pulls out the torch, recalling Lystihea’s instructions to light it and watching it flare to life. “So, my friend. That leaves with more questions than before. Do you usually keep the weapons you find on a job?” His eyes fall to the Sword of the Creator again. “And more importantly, who hired you?”</p><p>Byleth’s hand touches the pommel of her sword – not threateningly, just thoughtful. “Not usually, no. That was a special situation.”</p><p>“And my second question?”</p><p>She raises her head to look him in the eye. “I don’t know.” Before he can even respond she keeps talking. “Whoever it was technically hired my father, but they did it through a proxy. Someone is interested in the old relic weapons.”</p><p>“But you didn’t give them that sword.”</p><p>“No,” Byleth agrees, “I didn’t.”</p><p>Claude huffs. “You’re very frustrating.”</p><p>Her lips twitch. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”</p><p>“So–“</p><p>“Why are you interested in the weapons, Claude?” she interrupts him.</p><p>He hesitates. He likes Byleth, but he doesn’t trust her.</p><p>And she doesn’t trust him.</p><p>She nods, like she can hear what she’s thinking.</p><p>“Alright,” he says slowly. “How about this? We find what’s in here and get out. I take you to my healer and then you come back with me to my estate and we have a decent meal and you can contact your father or whoever, and we talk about – all this.” He traces a circle with his finger in the air between them.</p><p>“You’d share your secrets with me?”</p><p>“Would you share yours?”</p><p>She considers him for a long moment. “I think I would.”</p><p>He laughs, a little breathlessly, somewhat staggered by how truthful she seems to be and how much he seems to believe her. “This day has not turned out how I expected.”</p><p>She laughs at that too, a rather adorable snort laugh that Claude promises to himself that he’s going to hear again.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They make their way slowly through the archway and into the gloomy tomb, mindful of more traps. But there’s nothing except an elaborate coffin in the centre of the room.</p><p>There’s also no other exit except for the one they’ve just come through, but Claude puts that aside from now.</p><p>He steps up to the coffin, feeling a frisson of power running under his skin that startles him. Byleth moves to the other side and she meets his eyes with a grim expression.</p><p>They haul the lid of the coffin off with some difficulty, both of them still weakened from the poison. But they manage it.</p><p>And there it is.</p><p><em>Failnought</em>.</p><p>“It’s pretty ugly,” is Claude’s first thought. The bow is large and powerful, that’s clear. But it’s unsettling in the same way the Sword of the Creator is.</p><p>“All of them are,” Byleth comments, making Claude lift his eyes to her.</p><p>“How many of them have you seen?”</p><p>She shrugs. “A few.”</p><p>Claude stares at her in disbelief for a moment before shaking his head. Something else they’ll need to talk about once they’re above ground.</p><p>For now, he reaches out to take the bow by the grip. Immediately, it flares to life, glowing in the way the Sword of the Creator does when Byleth wields it.</p><p>That feeling of power returns.</p><p>“What is this?” he whispers.</p><p>Byleth’s mouth is set in a grim line. “You’re a Riegan. You must have the crest.”</p><p>Dragging his eyes away from the bow to her face, Claude frowns. “No one has crests anymore.”</p><p>“Says who?”</p><p>Claude almost answers, his mouth opening to say <em>the history books</em>, or maybe <em>the church</em>, but then he shuts it again. Both of those things can and do lie.</p><p>He lifts Failnought and it glows brighter.</p><p>The power under his skin sings and he thinks again of the Sword of the Creator. “You have a crest?”</p><p>“The crest of flames.”</p><p>“That’s…” That’s not one he knows much about. Once again, Claude shakes his head. “We really have a lot to talk about.” He hoists Failnought over his shoulder, letting himself feel a moment of satisfaction for completing his goal.</p><p>Byleth nods. “So long as you feed me.”</p><p>Incredulous, he replies, “I can do that. But first we need to get out of here and the only way is back through that poison cloud. And I don’t have any more antidote.”</p><p>“Oh.” Byleth’s brows furrow as she turns away, scrutinising the room they’re in like she expects another door to open up.</p><p>“I have an idea…” she says, sounding a little hesitant.</p><p>“I’m all ears.” What option does he have, after all?</p><p>Byleth slowly pulls out the Sword of the Creator. It glows, and Claude wonders if she feels the same power as he does when he touches Failnought.</p><p>“Have you heard the legends about this sword?”</p><p>Smiling now, Claude sees where she’s going with this. “I have,” he says. “Good idea. After all, if it can cut through a mountain–“</p><p>Byleth’s returning smile is wide. “It can make a new door,” she finishes.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Claude: love this idea, think you're fab. Just please don't go overboard and bring the ceiling and tons and tons of dirt down on us thanks</p></blockquote></div></div>
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